


starry eyes & galaxy minds

by littleoldrachel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Acephobia, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asexual Sirius Black, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Valentine's Day, mainly comfort though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-25 16:06:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17728424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleoldrachel/pseuds/littleoldrachel
Summary: Sirius works in the joke section of a toy shop. Remus works across from him with the books. Valentine’s Day is fast-approaching. That’s it, that’s the fic.





	starry eyes & galaxy minds

**Author's Note:**

> Tw for: references to acephobia, references to a past incidence of homophobia, one use of an ableist slur.

 

Another day at Gambol & Japes, another happy customer.

Sirius waves goodbye to the tiny human who’s strutting happily towards their parent, hands full of a magic set. The parent looks less than thrilled, but that’s okay - parents aren’t his target demographic. He can’t help but grin to himself as the child begins to plead _but mummy, I want to be a magician,_ and when the parent in question shoots him a glare, he hastily busies himself with gathering up the cards he was using to demonstrate tricks. As he shoves them back into the packet with an unnecessary (but very cool) flourish, he happens to glance up, and catch Remus Lupin’s eye.

And promptly scatters the cards all over the floor.

(He can hear Remus’ laugh from across the room, and even through his embarrassment, it’s a wonderful sound).

(Even in his head, he’s a complete fucking sap, and he mentally sticks a finger up at James, who’s cackling from his corner of the shop).

When he next summons the courage to peer over at Remus, the man is engrossed in a serious discussion with a small child, who’s clutching _Matilda_  tightly to her chest. Sirius takes a few seconds to just _look_ at how kind Remus’ dimpled smile is, how earnestly he’s nodding, how the little girl may as well be coiled round his finger.

(Honestly, same).

(Fuck off, James).

Remus turns to pick another book off the shelves behind him - Matt Haig’s newest novel by the look of the cover - and their eyes happen to meet once more. Remus smiles shyly, and Sirius blushes violently.

(Oh dear).

* * *

Here’s the thing: Sirius is sort of infatuated with Remus Lupin and his stupidly lovely face. It’s Gambol & Japes’ worst-kept secret, and the _only_ reason Remus himself hasn’t realised yet, is because he’s possibly the densest person in existence.

(And wow, isn’t Sirius head-over-heels for him).

Remus isn’t exactly _pretty_ \- at least, not in the same way that Sirius is. His ears stick out, and his nose is a little big, he’s long and gangly and has constellations of moles all over his arms and face. But he’s also got eyes like Jupiter - all swirls of amber and brown, flecked with white and gold - and the loveliest smile Sirius has ever seen.

And even if he _hadn’t_ been completely adorable and unexpectedly attractive in the looks department, Sirius would have fallen for his character _hard,_ because who wouldn’t?? Remus is sharp as daggers, he _knows_ things, often blurting random facts about animals and plants when business is slow. He uses his hands when he talks like he’s conducting an orchestra, and Sirius just about _lives_ for the way his eyes sparkle with passion when he’s ranting because he _cares_ so much. And then there’s the way he slips dry, sarcastic humour into their morning briefings, the self-deprecating cracks that are almost always accompanied with a wry, close-mouthed grin, how thoughtful and kind he is when he asks after all of Molly’s children and remembers their names and ages and what they like. And the way he wholeheartedly joins in on the Prank Wars - often masterminding stunningly mischievous ideas that he will later deny with an innocent _who? Me?_ smile. And how _good_ he is at his job - the way he obsessively orders his books in their sections, how customers come to him asking for one book recommendation and leave with six stacked high. And how children leave his section of the shop seeming surer and happier and lifted up by Remus’ encouraging questions.

So, yeah. Sirius has it bad. (Embarrassingly bad, if you ask James or Lily or literally any employee ever, because Sirius is decidedly Not Subtle).

But it’s okay, because Remus is wonderful, and probably already has a loving partner at home who _knows_ just how lucky they are… And because (and don’t let James catch him thinking this, lest he launch into a tirade about internalised acephobia and Society’s Gross Glorification of Fornication - a working title) Sirius _heard_ Alice teasing Remus about his sex life only a month ago - and the fact that Remus even Has a Sex Life poses all sorts of issues for a grey-ace gay like himself; Sirius has little to no interest in Sex, and even though there are (very rare) occasions where he does, that’s not the sort of thing allosexuals are often interested in hearing. (Sorry, James).

And so what if Valentine’s Day is just around the corner and t’is the season for confessing how you feel? So fucking what?

* * *

But here’s the other thing: the signs are _there._ Remus regularly makes excuses to touch him - whether that’s a _quick, come see what just got delivered_ tug on his hand or a _wow that parent was a complete fucking arsehole_ shoulder squeeze. He asks him to team up with him for pranking James (who’s Remus’ favourite target because of how dramatic James’ reactions always are), and sure their meetings have a practical purpose, but Sirius likes to think of it as just a reason to spend more time together.

(Maybe it’s wishful thinking. Maybe it’s something more).

* * *

The staff room is less of a room, more of a cupboard with a kettle in it, but it’s a customer-free zone, and Sirius is grateful for it, regardless of size. As much as he loves his job, customer service is exhausting - particularly in the post-Christmas sales slump, and remaining peppy for the total: three (3) customers who have been in all day is truly a feat of strength. He’s just downed a coffee or seven, when the door opens behind him, and Remus enters.

“Oh, sorry - I - I was just going to -” he gestures awkwardly at the kettle, and Sirius hastily shuffles out of the way. Remus’ side brushes against his chest as he slides past him, and Sirius tries desperately to think of _anything_ but their proximity and how damn much he wants to hold Remus close to his chest and not let him go.

“Can I make you a cuppa?”

Sirius starts, and turns to see an awkward-looking Remus behind him, clutching a mug hopefully. He doesn’t want a tea - in fact, if he consumes any more liquid, he runs the risk of pissing himself, but he’s not going to pass up the opportunity to have some downtime with someone as lovely as Remus.

“Sure,” he says, silently apologising to his bladder, and Remus’ smile widens. ( _Worth it)._

“Having a good day?”

Sirius wrinkles his nose. “I’ve sold a magic wand. One. Singular. They weren’t even interested in the cape and hat.”

Remus shakes his head, “what is the world coming to?”

“I _know_. What kind of child doesn’t want to dress up like a wizard?”

“Outrageous.”

“I _know_.”

“Unforgivable.”

It takes a minute for Sirius to realise he’s being made fun of. “Alright, arsehole, what’ve you sold?”

“Not loads,” Remus says, and as Sirius begins to crow triumphantly, he continues with a smirk. “Just the entire collection of _How To Train Your Dragon_ books, _the_ _Gruffalo_ , and _Room on the Broom_.”

Sirius gapes at him, because he’s not even convinced there have been that many customers in today. He flounders, “well, I hope you know how ridiculous that sounds coming from a grown man.”

Remus raises his eyebrows. “Coming from the grown man wearing a wizard’s hat.”

Belatedly, Sirius remembers the pointed hat emblazoned with stars that’s resting crookedly on his head to hide that he ran out of time to wash his hair this morning. He’s blushing - mind stuttering as it struggles to produce a comeback (which, never a problem with anyone except Remus, hmm) - and Remus chuckles.

“Don’t worry,” he says, patting Sirius’ cheek and handing him his favourite mug. “You look cute. As always.”

The door bangs shut behind him, and Sirius’ mind is _melting_ with how much that is to process: Remus knows how he takes his tea (sinfully pale, with enough sugar to make your teeth rot). Remus thinks he’s _cute_ . Remus touched his face - affectionately, even - and his skin still tingles with the phantom sensation of Remus’ fingers. Remus thinks he’s _always_ cute.

By the time he’s pulled himself together, his tea is a drinkable temperature (and that’s drinkable by Normal Standards, none of this Asbestos Mouth shit that Marlene pulls).

Is it too much to say it’s the best a cup of tea has ever tasted?

(Probably, but it is).

* * *

Sometimes Sirius can’t believe his luck - he literally gets _paid_ to play with toys all day and make adorable children smile. It’s the dream.

Or at least, this is what he tells himself when he sees the rota for the second week of February, and spots that he’s on closing shifts all week, with arguably the worst person to walk the earth, Severus Snape.

“It’s _so_ unfair,” he moans to James. His best friend shuffles guiltily, and Sirius narrows his eyes, “what did you do?”

James takes a deep breath, and his face takes on that glowing smile that can only mean he’s about to talk about -

“Lily and I are off all week. For Valentine’s. I’m sorry, mate. I didn’t know Molly would get Snivellus to cover my shifts.”

Sirius can’t even bring himself to be angry, because Lily and James are his _world,_ and goodness knows they deserved some time off together. Instead, he dramatically keels into the collection of beanbags in the building-blocks section, and groans into the fabric. “Existence is pain,” he tells it, and James makes a sympathetic noise of accord.

And so, it’s without his usual enthusiasm that he rocks into work on the Monday, though when he arrives, Severus is nowhere in sight. Sirius checks in the stockroom, the staff room, Severus’ dark and smelly corner of slime and playdough, and even in the rubbish bins.

No Severus.

“I swear to fucking god,” he’s grumbling as he storms back into the shop, “if that _twat_ has left me to close on my own, I’m gonna-”

_Smack._

Sirius barrels into Remus, who staggers backwards, and promptly loses his balance. He flails and grabs Sirius’ arm at the same moment that Sirius panics and seizes the front of his shirt. The result is magnificent; the pair of them sway for a moment, then Remus loses his battle with gravity and falls, Sirius landing squarely on Remus’ chest.

“Afternoon, Padfoot,” Remus says, clearly winded but still inexplicably smiling.

Sirius’ face is so close to Remus’ that he can count each of the tiny moles across his nose.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you too. Let me up?”

Sirius scrambles off Remus immediately, a flush creeping up his neck and cheeks. “Sorry.” He offers Remus a hand, which he gladly accepts, and then there’s an awkward pause where Remus hasn’t yet let go and Sirius really doesn’t want him to.

“But seriously,” Sirius clears his throat. “What are you doing here? You’re not in till Wednesday?”

Remus gives him a look that clearly says, _why have you memorised my rota, weirdo_. “I persuaded Severus to switch shifts with me.”

“ _Why_?”

Remus blinks. “Because you hate Severus and you hate closing.”

“Of course, Severus is the spawn of Satan, and closing fucking sucks.”

Remus presses his lips together, fighting a smile. “I thought you might appreciate some better company.”

His words take a moment to process, because? Remus wants to spend time?? With Sirius?? Is Heaven real?? The happiness that floods through him at this realisation is frankly embarrassing, but then concern overrides his joy.

“How did you persuade him to do that? What did you promise him?”

Remus’ smile goes a little strained, and he says too quickly, “unimportant. Right now, it’s time for a water fight!” From behind his back, he whips out two water pistols, pushing one into Sirius’ hand and squirting the other directly at Sirius’ open-necked shirt. “Loser has to buy the other the sappiest Valentine’s teddy they can find.”

The indignant squawk that Sirius emits is humiliating and the exact opposite sound you want to make in front of your crush, but soon he’s having too much fun to care.

(Okay, fine. He loves his job. He’s unbelievably lucky. He gets to flirt with a lovely man and call it advertising, and it’s the dream).

(And fuck off, Wormtail, as if he deliberately lost so that he could buy Remus a minion holding a heart that’s embroidered with the words _you’re one in a minion_ ).

(Though if he _had,_ Remus’ delighted laugh is more than worth it).

* * *

Possibly as a result of spending half his shift soaking wet and shivering, possibly an allergic reaction to the truly disgusting levels of capitalist love heart balloons that have plagued the high street, Sirius wakes up the next morning feeling like death warmed up. Calling in sick is a no-brainer, and it takes almost all of his energy not to retaliate to Snape’s snide comments when he answers the phone. When at last he’s free to collapse back into bed, he’s asleep within seconds, and only wakes up when Peter heads to work mid-afternoon.

He feels marginally less terrible, though there’s still a cold weight in his chest that twinges when he coughs, and by now he’s hungry as well as sick.

Stomach rumbling angrily, he stumbles out of bed, trips over Buckbeak’s tail, and faceplants. Buckbeak makes an angry hissing sound, and slips under his bed, whilst Sirius forces himself upright again, making his careful way to the kitchen.

He’s not sure how tomato soup ends up as his new carpet instead of _in the fucking saucepan_ , but suddenly he’s staring at a massive mess and trying to resist the urge to burst into tears. All that stops him from sitting in the red liquid and sobbing is the loud knock at the door, which - odd? Most of his friends have keys of their own, and it’s too late in the day to be the postie.

Sirius drags himself over to the door, opens it, and regrets every single thing about this day.

“Hey,” Remus says brightly, and Sirius slams the door in his face.

 _He cannot be seen like this._ His hair is a tangle of curls, his nose is running like a tap, he’s all pale and _half-naked_ and covered in soup, and no, no, no, this is bad.

Then he registers what he’s just done to poor Remus, and realises that is bad too. Just a fucking terrible day all round to be honest. Jesus fuck, _don’t you dare start crying again._

He cracks the door open and pokes his head round it. Remus is still standing there, looking utterly bewildered, and it shouldn’t be endearing, but it is. It really, really is.

“Sorry about that,” Sirius rasps.

Remus waves a hand, and with the other brandishes a Tupperware full of suspicious red liquid. Can it be… tomato soup, Sirius’ now sworn enemy? “Prongs said you were sick, so I brought soup,” he says, smiling again, and Sirius’ heart _swells_ at the thought that Remus cared enough to do this for him.

“That’s…” Sirius swallows down the lump of emotion in his throat, “really thoughtful. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” There’s an awkward pause, and then Remus says awkwardly, “am I allowed in, or?”

“Um,” Sirius winces at how his voice cracks. “It’s a bit of a mess.”

“Uh, yeah, I work with you, I’d assumed as much.”

“Rude.” But Sirius’ smile is genuine, wide, and toothy, and Remus beams back as he enters.

Of course the first thing he spots is the soup stains. “Redecorating? I know red’s your Thing, but this seems a little much?” Remus turns, catches sight of Sirius’ wobbling lower lip as he loses it once more, and changes tact _._

Within seconds, Sirius is bundled up on his sofa in a soft blanket, and Remus is on his hands and knees scrubbing at the stains. “Hey, no, don’t worry about it-” Sirius tries, but he’s so effectively burrito-wrapped in blankets, so warm and comforted by the fact his crush _cares_ this much that he doesn’t try again when Remus ignores him. Lulled into a sense of security by the cosiness and the sound of Remus’ humming, his eyes drift closed.

“I’ve made your soup. Do you want some tea?”

Remus’ quiet voice rouses him, and he blearily shakes himself awake, flushing at Remus’ fond smile. He glances at the soup stains - which are a less concerning shade of pinkish now - and then back at Remus. “Thank you,” he croaks, and Remus smiles.

“You’re welcome. Here.” He helps Sirius extract his arms from the blankets, and passes him a bowl of soup. Even though his taste buds are abnormal at the moment, he can taste the freshness of the tomatoes and the hints of basil. It’s delicious, and he makes a near-orgasmic sound unashamedly.

Remus laughs, and the sound is so fucking lovely, Sirius smiles too.

“Could you be any more adorable if you tried?” Remus says, still chuckling, and then turns back to the kitchen - casually, as though he hasn’t just completely shifted Sirius’ world.

“Where are your mugs?”

His brain will not cooperate. “Um… shelves. On top of… the hot thing?”

“The oven?” Remus supplies, corners of his mouth twitching.

Sirius snaps his fingers. _Oven._ Of-fucking-course. Stupid brain. He’s still lowkey embarrassed when Remus returns with steaming mugs of tea, but the feeling subsides a little when Remus plonks himself down beside Sirius.

“Sorry about…” He gestures at his head meaningfully, and Remus shakes his head immediately.

“No need to apologise for brain fog. Sometimes my illness makes me so foggy I can’t remember where I live, so I get it.”

He says it so matter-of-factly that Sirius just blinks _._ “Your illness being…?”

“Epilepsy,” Remus says, in a _duh_ tone, and when Sirius looks blank, he raises his eyebrows. “Huh. I thought you knew. Severus couldn’t wait to tell everyone they’d hired a sp*z.”

Sirius flinches at the slur, and says, “I didn’t know.”

There’s a pause, and Remus gives him a hard look. “This changes nothing, okay?”

“Of course not,” Sirius says, meaning it, because Remus is _right_ \- knowing he’s epileptic is just knowing another fact about him, and hating Snape _even more_.

Remus nods, apparently satisfied, and flicks the TV on. All that’s on are romances, because, a week till Valentine’s Day, obviously, and Remus hops through a few channels. “Okay, pick from: The Notebook, Up, 500 Days of Summer or Dirty Dancing. Scratch that, I’m vetoing Up, because it’s devastating and I can’t take it.”

“Ooh, the Notebook,” Sirius says, because if he focuses on the telly, he’s not internally whooping about the fact that their arms are pressed together.

Remus looks closely at him. “Is this because you have a thing for Ryan Gosling?”

“Who doesn’t have a thing for Ryan Gosling?”

Remus concedes. “Okay, fair. But I refuse to pit myself against Ryan Gosling in a see-through wet shirt, so,” he selects Dirty Dancing, leaving Sirius to try and decipher what the hell he meant by that.

(If only his brain were less stupid and slow today).

(If only he weren’t diseased and gross and snotty, and -)

Remus shifts, leaning a little against Sirius’ side - a deliberate cuddle. Sirius holds his breath, unable to believe his luck, but Remus stays there. If Sirius’ heart were beating any faster, he would be dead.

The rest of the afternoon passes pleasantly - more than pleasantly - with the two of them making fun of ridiculously convoluted rom-coms, drinking numerous cups of tea, and most importantly, snuggling without ever acknowledging it out loud.

Sirius learns snippets about Remus that only make him fall harder for the other man; he learns that Remus grew up in Wales, speaks fluent Spanish and knows British Sign Language, that his favourite colour is orange, that he thinks dolphins are overrated and can give a fifteen minute speech on the merits of bats, that he’s bisexual, left-handed, and partially blind in his right eye.

(And, a fact that shouldn’t make his heart race even faster but absolutely does, he’s _single_ ).

And if, by the time Wormtail gets home from work, Remus and Sirius are huddled together under the blanket, limbs entwined and heads leaning against each other, what of it?

* * *

**8th February**

**Moony <3: ** this made me think of you [rainbow emoji] [[link](https://www.buzzfeed.com/mjs538/why-being-gay-is-better-than-being-straight)]

 **You:** omg

 **You:** i love everything about this

 **You:** and since we’re doing this, saw this and thought of you [[link](https://www.etsy.com/uk/listing/666853249/bisexual-flag-pride-premium-hooded?ga_order=most_relevant&ga_search_type=all&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_search_query=bisexual+pride&ref=sc_gallery-1-4&plkey=cf90a29292b910b6d84fdb93d54e44f9822ed6bd%3A666853249)]

 **Moony <3: **aaaaaa i love it

 **Moony <3: **must have it, precioussss

 **You:** when’s your birthday?

 **Moony <3: **am shocked and hurt you don’t know

 **Moony <3: **it’s in march

 **You:** you’re a PISCES

 **Moony <3: **huh, i’d never pegged you as an astrology gay

 **You:** rude

 

**9th February**

**Moony <3: **pls send me pics of buckbeak being cute, i just got off the phone with my dad and i need to smile

 **You:** [IMAGE: buckbeak pawing at a red balloon]

 **You:** [IMAGE: buckbeak wearing a halloween costume, dressed as a bat]

 **You:** [IMAGE: buckbeak in a cardboard box, on his back, looking relaxed and playful]

 **You:** ps, sorry about your dad

 **You:** i know a lot about shitty parents and if you ever need to rant, i’m here <3

 **Moony:** thank you, padfoot [sparkling heart emoji]

 

**10th February**

**Moony <3: **why are straight people so annoying??

 **Moony <3: **just had to sit next to two sucking face on a park bench

 **Moony <3: **i mean, I don’t have a problem with it. i just don’t want them to do it in front of me you know???

 **You:** it’s like they don’t care about the children [frowning face]

 **You:** letting them see this kind of thing will turn them

 **Moony:** love this #heteronormativelife

 **You:** i’m embarrassed for you that you just hashtagged that

 **Moony:** #you #love #it #really

 **You:** true

 **Moony:** [smiling face with smiling eyes emoji]

 

**11th February**

**Moony <3: **thoughts on what ariana’s new album will sound like?

 **You:** iconic, inspirational, stunning, i stan

 **Moony <3: **my thoughts exactly

 **You:** three days has never felt so far away

 

**12th February**

**Moony <3: **i’m not a big fan of valentine’s day usually, but i just got given free doughnuts because of it???

 **You:** omg where are you?

 **You:** save me one plssssss

 **Moony <3: **already have, babe

 **You:** you’re the best

 **Moony <3: **i know

* * *

It’s the day before Valentine’s Day, a fact that is inescapable in every single shop display, and café window. Every time a loved-up couple wanders past, Sirius can’t help but scowl, because it’s like a punch in the gut - like a _look, we’ve got everything you’re too cowardly to ask for._

(And he can no longer deny that the signs aren’t there, because he’s like seventy percent certain that Remus likes him too. And even his flimsy excuse to himself about sexuality and his lack thereof falls apart when he considers: Remus is _not_ an arsehole. Remus would never do anything to make him uncomfortable, fact).

(So, yeah. He’s being a coward).

Needless to say, Sirius isn’t in the best of moods.

Not even Remus’ stupid lovely face can make him feel better, because of course, _Remus_ is part of the problem.

The other problem is the pushy parent who is steering him over the edge of a nervous breakdown:

“I just think it’s terrible that you’ve _lied_ to these poor children-”

“Ma’am, if you look closer at the box, it clearly says-”

“You don’t deserve this job if you think that’s an _excuse_ -”

“I don’t understand what you want from me, ma’am.” Sirius is inches from losing his patience, but he’s also millimetres from bursting into tears. He’s tired and overworked and this is too much for a minimum wage employee to deal with -

“I _want_ you to give my son a rabbit, you idiot.”

Sirius flinches at the spit that hits his cheek with the viciousness of her hissing.

“Get me the manager. Perhaps they are more competent than you.”

He swallows past the lump in his throat with difficulty, and clenches his trembling hands in the cuffs of his sleeves. “Ma’am, neither me nor the manager can give your son a rabbit, that’s inhumane and-”

“I don’t think that’s acceptable. I’m not leaving until you give my son a white rabbit.

“If you’re unhappy with your purchase, we can refund you or offer you a gift card?”

The woman shoots him an evil glare, looking him up and down, and mutters, “ _despicable_.”

Sirius’ eyes are burning.

“You’ve just lost yourself a loyal customer. I hope you’re happy.” She grabs her son’s hand, and yanks him towards the door, twisting back to call, “and I hope you lose your job.”

Sirius manages to hold it together for the approximate five seconds it takes to shoot Peter a too-fragile smile, walk to the staff room, and shut himself in it, before he crumbles.

He’s not sure why this has upset him so much - it’s not like he hasn’t met shit customers before, it’s not like he’s not been called these names before, it’s not like retail work hasn’t hardened him to just how spiteful and selfish people are capable of being to workers in this industry. Normally, this is the kind of thing he can laugh off and spin into a funny story, but today - at the end of a rubbish week, coming off the back of a nasty cold, bombarded with romantic ideals and expectations that he can’t compete with - it’s too much.

There’s a knock at the door, soft and unassuming, and Sirius shuts his eyes against it, as more tears trickle down his cheeks.

“I just need a minute,” Sirius calls, praying that the door muffles how his voice catches a little.

The knock sounds again - more insistently this time.

“Fuck _off,_ Wormtail!”

A pause.

“It’s not Wormtail.”

_Remus._

Sirius hastily stands and swipes at his eyes. “One minute.”

“Let me in, Pads.”

There’s something in Remus’ voice - something unbearably kind and soft and gentle that makes Sirius’ resolve crumble. He opens the door, and Remus steps inside, wrapping his arms tight around Sirius and kicking the door shut behind him in one fluid motion. Sirius buries his face in Remus’ chest, and inhales - it’s books and hot chocolate and comfort, plain and simple.

“She was a cunt,” Remus says bluntly, and Sirius smiles into his shirt in spite of himself. His shoulders relax minutely, and Remus takes this as a sign to continue: “what sort of person genuinely thinks we’d sell a _live_ rabbit in a magic set? How entitled do you have to be?” This earns him a reluctant chuckle, and Remus squeezes Sirius a little tighter. “D’you wanna talk about it?”

Sirius hesitates, then shakes his head.

“Okay,” says Remus, and he makes it sound like it really _is_ okay. “I just need to say that you are worth a thousand of that woman, and her behaviour is in no way a reflection on you. You are _brilliant_ , and you deserve better.”

Sirius lifts his head, and raises his eyes to Remus’, eyes welling for an entirely different reason now. He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out, and Remus smiles so gently, so kindly it hurts. He doesn’t need to say anything. It’s enough for them to just hold each other right now.

* * *

Valentine’s Day is a day like any other, in Sirius’ world, at least, and by that he means that he spends half of it daydreaming about telling Remus he adores him, and the other half bemoaning that he hasn’t told Remus to the rest of his friends.

(And _yes,_ he can tell he’s annoying them with his whining, but his heart is _hurting_ right now).

What makes it worse is the way Remus is being extra-adorable today - case in point: Remus only just arriving before they open, as usual, and making grabby hands at the mug of coffee Sirius has waiting for him.

“Urgh, marry me,” Remus mumbles as he drains the coffee in one go, and immediately pours himself another.

Peter elbows Sirius in the side, and grins meaningfully. Sirius rolls his eyes, because Remus was _obviously_ talking to his coffee. (....Right?)

Sales are low, rain is falling, and his friends are plotting. He can tell by the way Kingsley and Peter keep meeting mid-way between their areas of the shops to whisper for a few minutes. Alice keeps watching him out the corner of her eye, then shooting off messages on the phone she’s concealed behind the arm of her wheelchair. Sirius assumes it’s a prank of some sorts, because he and Remus had made the latest move, involving rubber ducks, washing up liquid and a paddling pool, and they are owed revenge.

And it _is_ a sort of revenge, he supposes later - revenge of the best sort...

He’s in the stockroom, unloading the latest delivery boxes, when he hears another set of footsteps enter, and then the door slams. Spinning on his heel, he comes face-to-face with a startled-looking Remus.

Remus pulls on the door to the stockroom, then bangs it twice. “Frank?” he calls. He turns back to Sirius. “He sent me in here and I don’t know what he’s playing at.”

Sirius crosses to join him at the door, and grabs the handle too. And it’s a fucking cliche, but where their hands meet, Sirius’ skin tingles in anticipation. “Frank, let us out.”

“ _Nah_.”

“Wormtail?”

“ _Shhhhh._ ”

“Seriously, guys, let us out.”

There’s the sound of muffled laughter, and then Alice’s voice, “not until you two have sorted yourselves out.”

Sirius’ stomach clenches in - nerves? hope? panic? He’s not entirely sure - but he covers it with “dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, bull. Shit. Figure it out.”

Footsteps retreat from the door, and Sirius turns back to Remus, who’s now looking uncharacteristically nervous.

“Sorry about th-”

“I didn’t know they wou-”

They both break off, and chuckle. Sirius gestures at Remus, “you first.”

Remus bites his lip, shifts on the spot, and looks at the floor. “I didn’t know they were planning this. Sorry.”

Sirius shrugs, “I didn’t either.”

Remus looks at him, and Sirius thinks he’s about to speak - and his heart rate spikes in trepidation. But then Remus looks away again, sighs, and slides down the wall to the floor. Sirius copies him so that they’re knelt opposite each other, and tries to summon the courage to do what needs to be done. His anxiety’s fucking with his body like it hasn’t in years - his palms are sweating, his mouth is a desert, his hands tremble.

But then he thinks about Remus, and how he always texts first, cute and thoughtful things or playful banter or dog memes. How he had looked after him when he was sick and snotty and gross. How he had held him safe and tight after a horrible customer tore him down. How he smiles at Sirius and says his name like it’s a gift and relaxes around him).

(And he _likes_ Remus. _So very much_ ).

(And he’s so tired of not knowing).

“Moony?”

Remus’ head jerks up, and Sirius wants to smile at the fact that the same anxiety is etched across Remus’ features. It’s this that gives him the courage to continue.

“I need to tell you something.” Sirius swallows, licks his lips futilely, and takes a deep breath. “I like you. I really like you. Have done for a while now.” He swallows again, and fights the urge to look away from Remus’ intense, wide-eyed stare. “It’s sort of embarrassing how much I like you.”

Remus’ mouth twitches, and then he’s covered it with shaking hands. His eyes are wide and a little shiny, and Sirius’ heart is _pounding._ Several seconds stretch like an eternity, and his nerves kick into an even higher gear. “Can you… like, say something?” he tries to chuckle, but it comes out a tad hysterical.

Remus seems to snap back into life, and suddenly, he’s closed the gap between them. “I -” his voice cracks, and he blinks _hard._ “I - I really like you too. An embarrassing amount.”

It’s like remembering how to breathe - his lungs feel lighter and looser, and his nerves are blossoming into something warm and lovely and _full_.

“Can I kiss you?” Sirius murmurs.

Remus nods minutely, and tilts his head to meet Sirius’ lips. He captures them - soft and gentle and so very sweet, and holy _shit,_ Remus is the sun and Sirius revolves around him - and it’s _wonderful_. His thoughts come in jumbled, no-sense stops and starts - joyful explosive bursts in his heart and heat flooding his face and arms. When they break apart, Sirius rests their foreheads together, and closes his eyes. Remus’ arms come to rest around his waist, and it sets off another series of warm, delighted sparks beneath his skin.

“I’m so happy,” he breathes, barely caring that he sounds like a complete fucking sap, because he’s in _Remus’_ arms at long last, and Remus _likes_ him, and he can _kiss_ him. As though he’s only just remembered this, he impulsively surges forward and presses another tender kiss against Remus’ lips.

They’re both smiling into their next kiss and Sirius’ is _overwhelmed_ with the happiness in his heart.

A little while later - Sirius loses track of the time they spend kissing and cuddling and whispering to each other that _I’ve wanted this for so long_ and _I was so afraid you didn’t feel the same,_ Remus shifts so that they’re side-by-side. Sirius entwines their hands, because from now on, every moment they aren’t joined, is a moment wasted.

“What made you think I wouldn’t feel the same?” Remus asks eventually, and there’s something strange in his voice that Sirius can’t quite place.

He shrugs - his insecurities seeming utterly idiotic now that he’s holding this lovely man’s hand. (He’s not a fool, he knows that they will rear their ugly heads again, and that Remus and he will need to discuss his Stuff at some point. But for now, he just wants to bask in _Remus_ and this new-found bliss). “Not sure to be honest. Seems daft now. What about you?” Remus tenses slightly, and Sirius frowns. “What’s wrong?”

“I thought it might be a joke,” Remus says so lowly that Sirius has to strain to hear it.

“ _What?_ ” He’s certain he misheard, but when Remus repeats himself, Sirius is aghast. “Why would you say that?”

“Promise you won’t laugh at me?”

Sirius’ heart just about breaks at the vulnerability in his voice, and he wants to tug him into a hug and reassure him that nothing that causes him this much pain could ever make him laugh. But he settles for tightening his grip on Remus’ hand and saying _“never_ ” as fiercely as he dares.

Remus clears his throat. “I told you that I came out when I was sixteen. Before then, I’d been bullied my whole school life, and I stupidly thought it couldn’t get any worse.” He shifts, fiddling with the laces of his beaten-up shoes. “But there was a boy I liked.”

(Sirius loathes the flat way Remus recounts this story, but he knows he would also hate the pain that should accompany it).

“And I told my friend that I liked this boy. And then they told everyone. And next thing I know, this boy is flirting with me. He kissed me. I was ecstatic.” Remus swallows, and Sirius’ dread intensifies. “And then he asked me out. And - bear in mind - I was at the bottom of the pile, _nobody_ wanted to know me. And then,” he takes a deep breath, “it turned out to be a joke. A school-wide one. So not only was my coming out taken from me but the first boy I fell for humiliated me and used my feelings as a _prank_ .” He breaks off, twisting away from Sirius, and Sirius’ heart might actually be cracking in two from how much it’s aching - even after all this time, the pain and trauma it’s caused Remus are evident, and the fact that Remus thought for a minute that _he_ might hurt him too -

It stings.

No, more than that, it burns and pierces and torments his poor vulnerable heart, but above that hurt is the rage he feels towards the _scum_ who hurt such a kind soul in this way, and above _that,_ is the adoration he feels towards Remus - pure and all-consuming. He tells Remus as such, pretends not to notice when Remus dabs at his eyes with a sleeve, and peppers kisses down his cheeks.

“I’m sorry I ever thought-”

Sirius silences him with another kiss. “No need. Don’t apologise for the things that were done to you.”

(Wow, his counsellor would be proud).

Remus takes a shaky breath, and forces a wobbly smile. “Thank you,” he says, and the two syllables are heavy with the weight of his sincerity.

Sirius cups a hand against his cheek, and kisses him _again_ , Remus’ hands flying to tangle themselves in his hair. This time, Remus doesn’t pull away until the door to the stockroom bursts open, and his friends pile in excitedly.

Beneath their enthusiastic jabber (Peter) and their claims that _this was all my idea_ (Kingsley) and congratulatory whoops (Alice), Sirius smiles across at Remus, who’s blushing, lips red and full from _kissing him_ , hair mussed and eyes bright. Their eyes meet, and Sirius holds out his hand. At once, Remus links their fingers, flushing even more adorably crimson as their friends coo, and Sirius mouths “happy Valentine’s Day, Moony.”

The smile he gets in return is utterly radiant. _Remus_ is utterly radiant. And Sirius’ heart couldn’t be fuller.

_Happy Valentine’s Day, Padfoot._

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! comments/kudos/feedback is so so appreciated <3
> 
> this was submitted for the utterly wonderful and lovely [andy](https://siriusly-not-over-remus.tumblr.com/)'s [competition](https://siriusly-not-over-remus.tumblr.com/post/182582796842/andy-grays-first-fic-competition). tysm for this opportunity, andy! 
> 
> pls hit me up on [tumblr](little-old-rachel.tumblr.com) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/littleoldrachel) to get in touch!  
> take care & love always xoxo


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